The Unlikely
by Parfait Est Profundis
Summary: "You were hit with a dark curse. You have 3rd degree burns over 90% of your body. It is unlikely you will recover, but we will do our best to make you comfortable, I'm so sorry". Harry's mind went blank. His heartbeat became so loud it drowned out Hermione's sobs.
1. Chapter 1

Day 1

Harry stared into the misty clearing. There was something amiss. The Greengrover was a notorious meeting place for Deatheaters and yet by 11pm, there was only three regulars lining the pub counter. Waiting with bated breath, Harry failed to notice the creak of branches at his far left until it was too late. There was a crackle and a bright light. The air was knocked out of him, and his vision blurred. Trumpets seemed to roar in the air above him, though he could hardly tell which way was up as his fingers dug into the earth underneath him.

"Harry!", came a voice from he knew not where. Faintly familiar, he wracked his brain but could not place it. Hands grasped his and a blurry form appeared in his line of vision before all gave way to darkness.

Day 2

There was a faint beeping sound, and a sterile smell pervaded his surrounding. His eyes cracked open, but the scene was cloudy, as though there was a film of water in between him and the rest of the world. He opened his mouth but the dryness stung and he promptly gave up any attempts at speaking. "He's lost a lot of blood", a voice explained. Turning his head ever so slightly in the direction of the voice, he was able to make out a bushy head of hair. _Mione_ , he thought.

"You can see him now", the voice continued. Hermione flung herself his way, but made no attempt to touch him, her hands were clasped over her mouth, as she let out a stream of _oh my god's._

""Harry, it's me, Hermione", her choked voice managed. He tried to move his hand to hers but barely managed to flex his fingers. "Don't try to move, you were attacked", she could scarcely get the words out, and still she kept her distance.

"Tell him, he has a right to know", came Ron's voice from the other side of the bed. _Tell me what?_ , he wondered. For what must've been the first time in her life, Hermione was at a loss for words. Harry's eyes widened in frustration. _Come on, I have a right to know, how bad?_ , he felt like screaming. "I-I…", she stuttered. A blonde wizard approached the bed, laying one hand of comfort on Harry's as he spoke;

"You were hit with a dark curse. You have 3rd degree burns over 90% of your body. It is unlikely you will recover, but we will do our best to make you comfortable, I'm so sorry". Harry's mind went blank. His heartbeat became so loud it drowned out Hermione's sobs.

Day 3

When he woke, he felt the stiffness of his cast more pronounced around his arms and legs. His middle was like a heavy weight on the mattress. A clinking sound to his right, caused him to flinch but he was unable to move his head in the direction of the class

"How are we doing, Mr. Potter?", asked a plump redheaded nurse. He made a gurgling sound, but no discernible words came out. "I'll take that to mean you're alright, don't try to speak, I'll just leave this here and if you fancy some chum just shake this bell", she said holding up a small metal device that she then thrust into his limp class.

After what felt an eternity, they appeared. "Harry", Hermione began, her eyes bloodshot, "I'm sorry its been so long, it's just I've had a lot what with the children, and Ron just got a promotion." Her voice hitched, and she buried her face in the crevice of Ron's neck. Harry could only swallow, his dry throat opening and closing without result. His eyes prickled as he tried to move his arms to no effect. Ron gave his shoulder a weak squeeze, which nevertheless thundered through his body painfully.

Day 4

Slipping into consciousness was a less than pleasant ordeal at this point. His brow was moist with perspiration, his hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead. Most nights he woke, breathing roughly, feeling an invisible weight on his chest. If auror training had left him any benefit it was the ability to remain calm, something he found particularly difficult this night. In his dream, he had come. From out of the mist, the gaunt expressionless face of Lord Voldemort appeared, his hollowed out eyes pining him to the spot as the hoard of dementors began their assault. One after the other they stole from him, his most precious memories. And all that remained were the shrill and soul penetrating screams of his dying mother. His breathing became erratic, and from his quivers he could hear the bell in his palm give off faint little chirps.

From out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a figure. A wand was drawn. _This is it_ , he thought as he shut his eyes. Then a wave of warmth came over him, his shivering ceased, and his heart began to slow as a feeling of overwhelming calm draped over his very being.

A towel was pressed against his forehead, and before he lost consciousness once again he caught a glimpse of a pale blonde figure smiling down at him.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 5

Slipping into consciousness was a less than pleasant ordeal at this point. His brow was moist with perspiration, his hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead. Most nights he woke, breathing roughly, feeling an invisible weight on his chest. If auror training had left him any benefit it was the ability to remain calm, something he found particularly difficult this night. In his dream, he had come. From out of the mist, the gaunt expressionless face of Lord Voldemort appeared, his hollowed out eyes pining him to the spot as the hoard of dementors began their assault. One after the other they stole from him, his most precious memories. And all that remained were the shrill and soul penetrating screams of his dying mother. His breathing became erratic, and from his quivers he could hear the bell in his palm give off faint little chirps.

From out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a figure. A wand was drawn. emThis is it, /emhe thought as he shut his eyes. Then a wave of warmth came over him, his shivering ceased, and his heart began to slow as a feeling of overwhelming calm draped over his very being.

A towel was pressed against his forehead, and before he lost consciousness once again he caught a glimpse of a pale blonde figure smiling down at him.

Day 6

"We can minimise the pain somewhat by applying this every hour, but frankly to put resources like that on one single patient is ludicrous during such a busy time", a booming aristocratic voice said.

"He's a war hero", came Hermione's unmistakable gritted response.

"That may be the case, however, I cannot justify such spenditure on one individual alone simply on account of their supposed _celebrity_ ", returned the man, with a tone that suggested the latter word was offensive in some way.

"If it's a matter of money, i can assure you we'll pay", Ron grunted almost pained at the effort of trying to please this exasperating character.

"This is not a shop, nor are the services provided for sale", the man huffed indignantly.

"Then we will take him elsewhere!", Ron shouted.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, you are not his guardians, nor are you relatives, I couldn't possibly allow you to dictate his wellbeing", the man snorted.

"So you are refusing treatment?", Hermione asked in disbelief. "This is preposterous!"

"Now, come, come, we are simply refusing to go to heroic measures, given the state of the poor man", he continued with his nose turned up at them.

"But you just said-", Hermione tried but it was no use.

"Bring it up with the authorities if you must, but I'm certain they'll agree, there's no point letting him continue to suffer. Good day", he concluded and sauntered off.

"That brute.. that absolute bastard", Ron said through gritted teeth, seemingly unaware of how Hermione's grip held him in place.

"What will we do?", Hermione cried, burying her face in Ron's chest, whose anger visibly disputed as he cradled his wife's quivering form.

"I don't know but we can't leave him like this, he's in pain", Ron grunted, his voice heavy with grief. His hand came down to cradle Harry's limp one, clutching painfully. "We will figure something out mate, I promise you that"

Many hours passed, and Harry dipped in and out of consciousness. A divot of moonlight spilled in through the window, casting a warm glow across the room.

Harry watched through lidded eyes as a figure appeared. The same glowing head of hair appeared, but the blurry image was too distorted to reveal any distinctive features. His bandages loosened with a wave of the mans wand. His robe was laid open and a cool slick sensation lay across his entire being. The chill of cool air made him hiss to which the man responded by laying one assuring hand on his forehead with a faint shushing sound. Then imperceptibly his entire being felt warm, a calm lay across his very being like a blanket of sorts, and all was right in the world. That night he slept undisturbed, feeling a gentle nurturing hand on him in his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Day 7

The damp cloth brought him abruptly out of his reveries, and flail though he might he could not stop the hand which came to lay across his sore cheek. His body weak from the strain of his injuries resorted to lying limp across the rough mattress. As he inhaled he caught a whiff of peppermint no doubt belonging to the hand.

"Hmm", the owner of the hand sounded, "it seems you have become somewhat feverish during the night. Tilt your head back", the voice was soothing yet commanding, so Harry did what anyone else would have done in such a scenario, he lay there motionless. The hand guided his chin upwards and before he knew it a foul gooey substance was poured down his throat.

Coughing violently, Harry lifted his weak arms but could do nothing to stop this madman from poisoning him. As the last droplet had been drunk, he lay there, awaiting his inevitable demise, at the hands of this malicious mediwizard but no such thing came to pass, rather his insides felt warm and a sense of lightheadedness pervaded him. His vision became sharp and focused. He could see the get well soon cards on the dresser next to the foot of his bed, the crinkles in his sheet and he could even see… _Malfoy_?!

"Don't attempt to speak", the blond cautioned, "you must regain full strength at your own pace".

 _Full strength? What are you on about, haven't you heard I'm at deaths door?_ , Harry thought as he glared daggers at his former nemesis.

"I know", Malfoy began as though he could read his mind, "The prognosis is not ideal, but I owe you a life's debt Potter, I simply cannot sit by and watch the great saviour who lived to save us all and be a great big git die, now can I?", Malfoy smirked in a familiar fashion, only this time his face was less pointy and more befitting a man whose daily job involved caring for, or in this very special case torturing the needy. Harry made a pained sound in the back of his throat. Being at the hands of Malfoy was a fate worse than death. How was he going to torture him? Take pictures of him in the nude? Not that anyone would surely recognise him in such a state. He began flailing but the ache of it had him settle down in his bed, eyes tearing up as he longed for the sweet kiss of death.

"Don't be so dramatic Potter, I do mean to make you better, now lets calm down and start by focusing on bringing your voice back", Malfoy continued going through his chart.

He was wearing long white dress-robes, custom made of course, his hair short and neat, with nothing out of place other than a band across his finger, the golden peace glinting off the slight sunshine that snuck in past the small window to the left of Harry's bed. From within his pocket he drew a wand, and Harry's entire being tensed up. _This is it_ , he thought.

"Calm down", Malfoy laughed as he began to cast a spell. Small rivets of blue began to form across the space above him, tufts which danced to and fro settled at last at the base of his throat.

His heart was racing a mile a minute, his wild eyes penetrating the depth of silver across from him, if he was going to die now, he at the very least wanted to look into the eyes of his perpetrator. An ache began to form at the base of his belly, which rose through his wind pipe, stinging the corners of his charred lips. A wet warmth spread across his mouth, and his tongue began to twitch.

 _Oh Godric, what is happening to me?_ , Harry wondered before the pain abruptly dissipated, leaving behind it a wondrous sense of agency. Flicking his tongue around his mouth, and licking his lips Harry at last was able to open his mouth.

Malfoy looked to him expectedly. "Well?!", the blond blurted out before Harry made his first utterance since his attack.

"Fuck you Malfoy".


	4. Chapter 4

The blond began to approach him but staggered somewhat at Harry's frantic shudders. He was attempting to move, but in his weakness and bonded state, he could only manage a slight shake.

"Calm yourself", the blond said soothingly as he approached the bed.

Harry was tense but could do nothing but watch as the wizard approached him.

Pale fingers came to tug at the bandage around his face, causing him extreme pain and he hissed loudly. Malfoy made a shushing noise, causing countless of curses to emit from the bandaged man. He had loosened the bandages, which has gotten themselves stuck on his singed skin, the exposed flesh now burning in the cool air around him. Malfoy's wand began to glow anew, and he once again felt as though fire had come to envelope him. His entire body tensed but he figured if this was death, it was a welcomed friend, and if it wasn't, there was nothing Malfoy could do to inflict more pain than Harry had already experienced. Harry's fingers clenched around Malfoy's robes, the only thing he could reach, almost a comfort as much as it was his own meagre way of fighting back.

Drawing back the blond withdrew a glass jar from his pocket, wherein lay a small beetle of some sort. It had a turquoise shell, and it was trashing back and forth violently. Harry watched in trepidation as the blonde began to unscrew the lid which contained it, and the creature began to fly into the glass thumping loudly in protest. As he lifted the lid, it was at long last free and ascended like a projectile for a moment only to be caught in Malfoy's swift hand.

 _He was never that fast during Quidditch,_ thought Harry as he observed the man in amazement.

The blonde held the thing between his point finger and thumb, his features betraying a small smile.

"Took me four treks trough the rainforest to find this little guy", Malfoy laughed bitterly. "Nearly got me too, but I was too quick", he smirked.

Harry began to imagine the blonde man tearing through leaves with a giant sword, wet and tousled in pursuit of this minute beetle.

It's little legs were moving frantically and Harry caught sight of its sting, protruding from its rear poised and ready to strike. Malfoy must've caught notice this and remarked: " _Aurora Carthacarta_ ; the Emerald Mist stinger, one sting and you become instantaneously paralysed, loosing the ability to move, swallow or even breathe. Death follows shortly after. There's no known antidote."

Harry tensed, knowing he was close to the end, _get on with it,_ he thought but the blonde simply stood observing it.

As though broken from a trance the wizard came out of his reveries withdrawing another jar.

"Much has been documented on the matter of their deadly effects but almost no one seems to be privy to this humongous discovery", the blonde smiled mysteriously as he began to tickle the belly of the beetle.

The creature gave off what sounded like a sneeze, and out of its bottom came an explosion of white foam, resembling whipped cream which piled into the jar. Malfoy's grey eyes were wide in expectation, a smile plastered on his pale face, making him look radiant with a youthful glow.

Harry was dumbstruck, but remained silent. A fact that seemed to aggravate the blonde, who sniffed in abject disappointment at Harry's lack of response. _But what was he to expect_ , Harry thought, _this is an odd way indeed to go about murdering a person._

Malfoy put the beetle safely back in his box, and donning special gloves he smirked and said;

"Now this is something entirely different, Potter".


End file.
